#also since i cant use legacy editor anymore. hopefully this doesnt get mega broken lmfao

[fortruechaos]

The very instant the machine whirred to life Shadow had known he'd committed an unforgivable sin.

But there had been a part of his brain, ever the doubter, no matter how much he said he moved on and was ready to let the past be the past--that one, small modicum of nonsense in his mind that still clung to the ARK and its broken eggshell of a past--there had been a part of his brain that told him 'you have to be sure.' And Tails had so many PHI parts lying around in pursuit of recreating the Gizoid and--that little modicum of nonsense won. It took just a second, had been only for a second, but--it won.

And already he is paying the price for it.

Shadow's hand jerks back from the PHI's exoskeleton like he's been shot; his other hand comes up to cradle his knuckles, eyes going wide. Instinct wins here too as he takes a few half-jumbled steps backwards and knocks some more spare pieces of electronica off of their resting places and onto the ground, an air shoe sending a bit of badnik skittering underneath an iron shelf. His throat is dry. So dry. He can't say her name, just lets his eyes widen an impossible amount--impossible, because this is impossible--it has to be. "What..." did I just do?

There's a familiar sound of steps behind him and Shadow can only turn to look, horrified, at the hedgehog behind him, unable to mask his expression. "Sonic--," which might as well be help me.

@lightdash

@lightdash & @fortruechaos    /      are you sure the only you is you?

Maria — not - Maria, not - Maria, but what else can she call herself / who else can she be? / NO ONE — is alone, when the hero finds her.  It?  Her.  She would be trembling, were this body more precise, less heavy.  She’s pacing / she’s panicking / SHADOW HADN’T KNOWN WHAT TO DO, ONCE SHE’D REALIZED.  He’d let her leave, needing to get away, at least for now, or she’d suffocate / NO SHE WOULDN’T, SHE CAN’T.

Not - Maria doesn’t know what to do, either.

She doesn’t know what to do when the door to the building opens, and there stands — Shadow?  No.  Not Shadow, but close.  A stranger, but…he looks so like Shadow her heart lurches (  but not her heart / a dead girl’s heart / but she is the dead girl / but she isn’t ——  ) at the sight of her family - that - isn’t.

Her lips part / they don’t, because this vessel she’s been given consciousness within doesn’t have lips.  Even so, the sound she lets free is barely a breath.  Stilted, she whispers, “hello,” and isn’t sure why.  POLITE TO THE LAST.